If I was a sports commentator I'd be calling this one a game of two halves ("and, y'know, the boys gave 110% out there, they left it all out on the paddock, the boys really worked hard for each other, I'm real proud of the boys. Shame we lost. PS: the boys.")
I got referred here from the physiotherapy biz next door for an MRI on my shoulder. When I'd called to make the appointment they'd advised me that with a reference from a sports physiotherapist I was entitled to no rebate. Fair enough, forewarned is forearmed. But when I turned up a different girl told me that if I'd brought a referral from a sports *physician* I COULD have got a rebate. Great. If I'd known that a week ago I would have got one. Here, take my money.
Appointment was at 9, sat patiently til 10am listening the the receptionists talk about how many bourbons you're allowed on a Jeststar flight to Queensland, which annoyed the pants off me considering they'd just cost me a whole bunch of dough. To be fair, it must suck that everyone can hear your gossip if you're a receptionist, but still. Little things.
Once I was out back it was a different story, and the professionalism shown by the licensed medical practitioners here was exemplary. Getting an MRI is pretty disconcerting what with the big alien machine and the weird noises and the claustrophobia etc, but the dude running it was super efficient. And then the radiologist who looked at my scans, Dr Linklater, was everything you wanted in a doctor - reassuring, patient, informative, with a sense of humour. Just wish he'd given me better news! Surgery here we come. Damn. read more
